


taboo

by terrifier



Series: Klaus Whump [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Apocalypse, BAMF Klaus Hargreeves, Gen, Ghosts, Insanity, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrifier/pseuds/terrifier
Summary: When Klaus was young, only nine years old, Reginald locked him away, afraid of his powers and the quick progress he was making.Twenty years later and Number Five is trying to stop the apocalypse. He and the others need Klaus' help.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & The Hargreeves, The Hargreeves Family
Series: Klaus Whump [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875406
Comments: 37
Kudos: 538





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea all morning and it wouldn't go away, so I'm writing it.

Twenty years ago, when Number Five was nine years old, he had six siblings. He had four brothers and two sisters. There had been seven of them. It hadn't been long before he had five siblings. He had three brothers and two sisters. And that was unchangeable.

He and the others were forbidden from talking about Number Four, his fourth brother. 

It had been an unusual day when Number Four had been taken away (had been locked up, Five's mind helpfully supplied).

Number Four had been training with their father once again. His training sessions had been increasing in number just as Four's powers had been increasing. It seemed that Four had almost full control over what he could do. He had a control over his powers that Five and the others could only dream of having at that age.

Anyway, Four had been in the training room with Reginald and Pogo whilst Five and the others had been in the lounge, playfighting. And then, there had been a loud noise. A boom that shook the entire foundations of the mansion, followed swiftly by ghastly screams and shouting. The shouting was familiar, whereas the screams sounded... Dead. Haunting.

Five and the others had wasted no time in following the noise. This is what they'd been training for, after all, and they couldn't allow themselves to hesitate any longer.

In no time at all, they found themselves hovering just outside the training hall, where the noise was coming from. It was deafening the closer they were, they could barely hear themselves think. From where they stood, though, they could see gruesome figures surrounded in eerie blue light. They were the ones screaming. One figure stood out from the rest, though. He was short and petite in comparison, nothing like the others, though he, too, was enveloped in the blue light.

It was Number Four. But he didn't look like the brother Five knew. His eyes were an electric shade of blue, as were his veins. It looked like someone had pumped his veins full of glowsticks. The light surrounding him made the shadows cast on his face more prominent, making him seem more intimidating. Bigger. One arm was outstretched as he pinned Reginald to the wall with his telekinesis.

They'd been training his power and, clearly, it had gotten out of control because Four had now overpowered Reginald.

"W-wat do we d-d-do?" Two had stuttered over the screaming, eyes wide as he peered through the crack in the door.

"We take him down! He's attacking dad!" One pointed into the room.

"But he's our brother," Seven had timidly pointed out.

"So? That's our father in there," One had rebuffed.

"And our brother," Six added.

"We weren't trained to handle situations like this," Three had crossed her arms, looking mad, though her eyes were conflicted. 

It didn't matter what conclusion they would have come to, either way, because before they could come up with a plan, the noise had stopped and the blue light had faded into nothingness. A look through the crack in the door had revealed the lack of ghosts and an unconscious Four face down on the floor.

Pogo was shaking his head sadly and Reginald was straightening his suit. Then he'd strolled over to Number Four and ordered Pogo to fetch Number One.

The children had all stumbled back from the door and tried to act as if they'd been on their way to the training room to help, but had gotten there too late. When Pogo exited the room, he rose the equivalent of an eyebrow but had gestured them all inside anyway.

From there, that was when things went downhill. One had been ordered to take Four somewhere else. A few hours later, and Three had been told to rumour them. Not to forget Number Four, no. Because rumouring them into forgetting would be too kind on them, and Reginald had to teach them a lesson about what would happen if they turned against him. No, she rumoured them into not asking about him and not looking for him.

And they didn't. 

From that day on, they never saw Number Four again, and they didn't ask about him. Didn't look for him. He became a taboo subject, but not of their own free will.

On that day, Five lost a brother and their family became one of six, not seven. 

* * *

Five paced back and forth, hands clasped behind his back and eyes focused on the floor. His siblings sat silently, watching him. He had something to say and he had to find a way to say it.

With determination, Five turned on the spot and faced Allison- because they had names now. They'd had names since the age of twelve, but a certain someone, along with himself, probably didn't get one.

"I need you to undo your rumour," he told Allison.

She frowned and shared a look with the others. 

"What rumour?" She asked.

He could almost understand. She must've forgotten what she'd done all those years ago. Five almost had, too, in the apocalypse, but he'd read Vanya's book over and over again, determined not to forget as a plan slowly formed in his mind.

"The rumour you made when we were nine," he tried to get her to remember. He needed her to undo her rumour. They needed to stop the apocalypse. "After what happened and the old man madr you rumour us."

"You mean..." Allison started slowly. The others seemed to understand, too.

"Yes," Five nodded, "if we want to have any hopes of stopping the apocalypse, we need... you know."

"I can't, Five, he's dangerous," Allison told him.

"That's exactly why we need him."

"If you manage to find him and convince him to help you, there's no telling what he'll do," Allison tried to convince him.

"I don't need to look for you know who because someone already knows where they are," at this, he threw a pointed look towards Luther, who somehow managed to shrink under his gaze.

"Five, I can't-"

"Actually, this might be a good idea," Luther interrupted.

"What?" Everyone simultaneously questioned in surprise.

"Look, couldn't you know who see dead people?"

"Yeah?" Allison rose an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"Well, if we find you know who, maybe they could speak to dad for us? Ask him how he died and why he sent me to the moon."

"Luther, no one cares why you were sent to the moon," Diego told him.

Before Luther could reply, Five spoke again.

"That's a good idea, Luther. Now, Allison, are you in?"

Allison looked conflicted, subtly shifting from one foot to the other. She looked from sibling to sibling, and then, a minute later, threw her hands up in resignation.

"Okay, fine," she relented, "but only because I want to know what dad did to him."

Five sighed with relief. 

"Okay. _I heard a rumour you could talk about Number Four..._ " Allison started.

It felt like a huge metaphorical weight had been lifted from Five's shoulders. A weight he hadn't even known he was carrying.

" _I_ _heard a rumour you were able to look for Number Four._ " 

Without wasting a second, Five jumped over to Luther and grabbed him by the lapels of his huge coat. Luther looked startled and there was a distinct laugh coming from Diego.

"Where is he?" Five angrily grit out, coming nose to nose with Number One.

"As far as I remember, there should be a room down in the basement. Made to dampen his powers," Luther told him.

Five let go of him, grabbed Vanya and Diego, and jumped them from the room. They reappeared in the basement. 

"Start looking," he ordered the other two, and began searching.

There were a few rooms down in the basement. The house was huge (having once been a block of houses before Hargrveeves got his hands on it), and thus, so was the basement. But that wouldn't sway Five.

As he was searching, moving from room to room, he heard humming and the sound of weels on concrete floor. He followed the noise until he came across another person; Grace. He frowned and approached her.

"Oh, Five, dear, how may I help you?" She asked, smiling as usual.

"What are you doing down here?" He asked suspiciously.

She had her hands on a metal trolley filled with empty plates, though it was clear there had once been food on there. There was a half empty glass filled with orange juice. The entire meal was reminiscent to the food Grace used to serve them all when they were kids.

"Oh, I was just bringing Four his meal, of course," Grace told him.

"Four? Where is he?" 

"Just down that hall and to the left, dear," Grace pointed back in the direction she'd come from, "he's been waiting for you."

Five frowned and left Grace, heading down in the direction she'd pointed to. He tried not to jump, having already jumped enough in the past half an hour. He had to preserve his juice, just in case the Commission showed their faces. Instead, he speed walked down the cold halls until he came across a single metal door with a round window in the centre.

Down the opposite end of the corridor was the lift, and he cursed his stupidity for rushing into things. He could've found Four earlier if he'd just used the lift rather than jumping.

Carefully, he approached the door, trying to look inside and spot his brother, though the inside of the room was almost pitch black.

When he found himself right in front if the door, he leaned a little closer and peered through the window. He couldn't see Four. Had Grace lied to him? Was Four even in there?

"Boo!"

Five startled and jumped back from the door, heart pounding erratically in preparation for an attack, only to be met with the sight of a man on the other side of the door, laughing at him. 

He calmed his nerves, and stepped back up to the door.

"Oh, you should've seen your face!" The man chuckled.

He was tall and thin, all gangly limbs, though his hands were obviously locked behind him for some unknown reason. His skin was pale, most likely due to lack of natural light, and his eyes were a swampy green that reflected the light from the hallway. His hair was brown and curly. A few curls fell on his forehead and brushed his long, dark lashes. His smile was familiar and it made Five's heart ache with the knowledge of what he'd been missing for fourty years.

His brother, because this was undoubtedly Number Four, in the flesh, was wearing black, distressed jeans, and a black mesh shirt. Over that, he was wearing a coat that came halfway down his thighs and had faux fur edges. The outfit was so... Four, that it didn't even phase Five despite having never seen his brother in anything other than the Academy uniform before.

On top of his outfit, though, and his bound hands, there was something on his feet that did manage to baffle Five. He was wearing boots that looked to be metal, with buckles at the top. Five vaguely remembered something about Four's powers only working when he was barefoot. He thought Vanya might've written something about it in her book, too. He swallowed down a raging fury at his father for what he'd done to Number Four, replacing it with the knowledge that the man was already dead.

"So, have you come to bust me out, Five-o?" Four grinned at him through the window and crouched down so they were eye level.

"The apocalypse is coming, Four," Five told him, "I need your help."

"The apocalypse!" Four gasped dramatically. "And you need my help? Oh, the day has come! The world is ending and you need my help!"

"This isn't a joke, Four," Five growled. He didn't care how long his brother had been locked up, he wouldn't stand for the apocalypse being mocked.

"No, no, of course not," Four nodded, "my apologies, dearest brother. On a lighter note, though, there's something off about you. What is it?"

"Maybe it's my-" Five started with annoyance.

"No, no, don't tell me. I've got this," Four interrupted.

Five breathed out through his nose and clenched his fist, standing impatiently as Four stared at him. Four's eyes narrowed and gave him a once over.

Suddenly, footsteps rounded the corner and Five turned around to see Diego and Vanya approaching. Their eyes widened when they saw Four on the other side of the door. 

"Two! Seven! That is you guys, isn't it?" Four exclaimed happily as he stood up.

Diego gaped as he and Vanya approached.

"Yeah, but those aren't our names anymore," he said.

"Oh? Then, pray tell, what are they?"

"My name's Diego, that's Vanya," Diego explained.

"Vanya," Four said, testing the name out on his tongue, "what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

Vanya blushed as a small smile crossed her features.

"Thank you, Four," she said, then her eyes turned sad and she looked away.

"But what about you, Five? Do you have another name?" Four turned to Five.

"I didn't want one," Five said.

"Oh, why not?"

"I just didn't."

"Okay, don't get your panties in a bunch," Four giggled, then gasped, "wow! Is that the time? You guys better hurry up and bust me outta here. I think I left the stove on."

"What sto- you know what? Never mind," Diego sighed and stepped forward to begin opening the door.

"Wait," Five told him.

"Wait? What for? We gotta get him out of here," Diego frowned.

"Can we trust you, Four?" Five asked.

"Trust me? Of course not," Four shrugged.

"Will you help us stop the apocalypse?" Five asked instead.

"When is it coming?"

"In eight days."

Four and Five stared at each other in silence for a moment before the former smiled wide. 

"Sure! I'll help you stop the big bad apocalypse, Five-o."

Five turned back to Diego and nodded, letting him continue opening the door.

When the door was open and Four was out of his room, he grinned and rolled his shoulders.

"Ah, that's better," he breathed.

Five smirked at him and straightened. He had a plan to stop the apocalypse and, with Four on his side, he had a chance. 

"So, how would you feel about getting a coffee with me?" Five asked.


	2. Chapter 2

Five led Four (still subdued), Diego, and Vanya back up to the lounge where Allison and Luther were sitting side by side on the couch. Luther had his head in his hands and Allison's hand was on his back, rubbing in soothing motions. Without a glance at either of them, Four traipsed into the room and sat on the arm of the couch, one leg crossed of the other. There was a tense silence as the other three followed him into the room. Diego and Vanya took a seat on the opposing couch and Five took to standing in front of the fireplace.

Everyone stared at each other, none of them willing to break the silence. As a large family, they had rarely ever been quiet in one another's presence (especially when Four had still been around), yet somehow, with their brother back, they couldn't find a thing to say.

Four looked around at each of his siblings, all of whom he'd last seen when they were nine, making sure he caught each of their eyes so they knew he was looking. Finally, his eyes fell upon Five's and he grinned, spotting a semi-familiar face. Realisation fell upon him as he finally realised what was up with Five. He was still a kid, while the rest of them were all adults.

"Can I just ask, why are Four's hands bound?" Allison finally sighed.

"Just a precaution," Five said and turned away from the orange flames.

Four coughed loudly and everyone looked at him, but kept his eyes on Five, unbothered by the stares.

"So, are we going for that coffee, or what, Five-o?" He asked brightly.

"No, not until we've settled this," Five stated.

"Settled what?" Diego asked.

"We need a plan if we want to stop the apocalypse."

"I thought Four was the plan," Allison spoke.

Nobody missed the way Four turned sharply to look at her, and his eyes narrowed for a second before he smiled and looked away.

"No, he's here just in case," Five said, as if she were an idiot.

"Just in case what?" Luther demanded.

"I just feel so loved," Four sighed dreamily.

"Just in case my former employers show up," Five ignored him.

"Former employers?" Allison repeated. "You had a job?"

"Yes," Five hissed, "I was an assassin. The Commission, more specifically the Handler, found me in the apocalypse and hired me."

"Wait, hold on, an assassin?" Diego laughed in disbelief.

"Woo! Go, Five! Kickin' ass even in the apocalypse!" Four cheered.

Five sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Why would you agree to be an assassin?" Vanya inquired.

"I did what I had to, to survive," Five snapped, "I had to get back here to stop the apocalypse. You wouldn't understand."

There was a tutting noise and they all looked up to see Four looking down at his lap and shaking his head. Five rose an impressive eyebrow and his lips turned downwards. When Four looked up and saw them all staring, he shrugged.

"Poor, Five-o, so young and lost, all alone in the apocalypse, desperately trying to get home to his family, only to fail time and time again," he sighed wistfully, as if listening to a sweet melody.

"Choose your next words very carefully, Number Four," Five grit out.

A new tension fell over the siblings as Four and Five stared at each other. The others looked back and forth between the pair, as if waiting for one of them to make the first move and attack. But none of them did. Instead, Four burst out laughing and Five relaxed marginally, thought he looked Just as confused as the others.

They all sat back and considered what to do as their brother laughed maniacally, as if he'd heard the funniest joke.

When Four stopped laughing, though, something that happened suddenly and abruptly, he faced Five once again.

"So, are we going for that coffee now?" He asked, voice less cheerful than it had been a few minutes ago.

Five grimaced and shared a look with the others.

"Fine," he relented to Four, "it's late, but we can go to Griddy's."

"Aw, Griddy's is still open?" Four asked excitedly as Five jumped over to him.

Five turned a questioning look to the others, asking for clarification. He hoped Griddy's was still open. It had been his favourite place when he was younger.

"Yeah, it is," Diego nodded.

Turning back to Four, Five pushed him forward a little, grimacing at the feel of his protruding ribs even through his coat. He knew Grace had fed him earlier, but how often did she do so? Reginald had probably installed a feeding schedule into her, one she wasn't to question, one that was sparse and all over the place. With pursed lips, he untied the bonds keeping Four's hands together. They were pale and without the strong, thick rope, a chaffed red line was left in its place.

Four brought his hands out in front of him and flexed his hands before rubbing his wrists. He groaned in relief and stretched his arms high above his head. After a long stretching session, he itched his back, just between the shoulder blades.

"Thank God for that, I've had an itch for _ages_ ," he whined, "honestly, it's not even fun anymore."

When he leant down to unbuckle his shoes, Five intervened. He caught Four's upper arm and pulled him back up.

"Keep the shoes on," Five told him.

"But they're so uncomfortable! They're metal," Four gestured wildly with wide, dramatic eyes, "besides, they're ugly. I wouldn't be seen dead in them."

"Fine, you can wear some different shoes, but as long as you're wearing some."

Four literally jumped for joy, much to the others' amusement. Then, he raced from the room and Five was forced to follow and supervise him. Who knows what the man would get up to if no one was there.

* * *

An hour and a lot of trouble later, and Four and Five finally found themselves at Griddy's. Four was wearing an old pair of Diego's shoes. They were worn, black combat boots, but with Four's current outfit, they suited him.

The pair sat on a couple of stools at the bar, another man beside Four. He was bald and wore a mechanics jumpsuit, but had a friendly look about him.

"So, how come you look like a kid, Five-o? And what's this apocalypse you keep going on about?" Four inquired, resting his chin on his fist as he peered at Five.

Five shushed him and peered around him to look at the stranger. He was turned away, clearly trying to tune them out. Five couldn't blame him; Four probably sounded insane. Which, now that he thought about, probably wasn't so far fetched.

"I time travelled." he told Four quietly, "when I was thirteen, I ran away and time travelled. Except, I went too far and got stuck in the apocalypse. Everything had been destroyed and I was the only person left alive. Or, so I thought. I managed to survive for forty years on whatever I could find. I found shelter at the library where I tried to find a way back. Then, the Handler found me and offered me a job as an assassin. I just had to work for the Commission for five years and then they would let me go to a time of my choosing and leave me alone. But, I couldn't wait that long and I had already figured out how to get home. So I broke the contract and travelled back in time early, except, I came back too close to the apocalypse and, somehow, I'm now thirteen again. The only clue I have in stopping the apocalypse is a fake eye I found."

Five sighed and thought back to the eye he'd found in Luther's hand, and watched as the waitress pulled out her note pad and began approaching them.

"What a rollercoaster," Four's giggled, high pitched and unsympathetic- if his eyes were anything to go by.

"Hey, what can I get you?" The woman asked him and Four.

"I'll have a chocolate milkshake and a doughnut with chocolate sprinkles, please and thank you," Four smiled widely at the woman- Agnes, her nametag read.

"And the kid?"

"The kid wants coffee," Five spoke for himself, "black."

Agnes looked up from her notepad to him with surprise. Five smiled innocently.

"Cute kid," Agnes told Four and stepped away to take the stranger's order.

The man ordered a chocolate éclair, and when Agnes had written down his order, she left to go and prepare what they'd ordered.

Five took that time to look around the diner, seeing it for the first time in forty years. His mind was swamped with hazy memories of himself and his siblings going there when they'd all been younger, sneaking out in the dead of night when even Reginald was asleep to spend their hard earned pocket money on whatever sugary substances they could get their hands on.

"I don't remember this place being such a shithole," he told Four who, in response, turned to admire the diner too. "Do you remember when we used to come here as kids?"

Four shrugged, hands held up and shoulders rising to meet his ear lobes.

"I don't remember anything, Five-o," Four said, "if you ask me," he leaned in and whispered, "I think the goblins stole my memories."

With a heavy sigh, Five turned away and looked around the diner again. At that point, Agnes returned with their orders and placed them on the counter.

"Thanks," Five said, sipping his coffee. It was decent.

"Danke," Four put his hands together and bowed his head.

The man who'd ordered the éclair took a bite out of his pastry and Five took the chance to eye him up, familiar, age old suspicion rising in him. He seemed normal enough, yes, but you could never be too sure with the Commission.

On the man's shirt was a logo that Five recognised.

"You must know your way around the city," Five addressed the man around Four.

The man looked up and nodded. 

"Hope so. Been driving in it for twenty years."

"Good, I need an address," Five told the man.

After getting the man to write his required address on a napkin, the stranger quickly finished his éclair and left the diner. Either due to Four's incessant ramblings or because he simply had other places to be. Who knew?

Either way, when the door clicked shut, Four sat up straight, alert, and Five frownes at him. It was the most still he'd seen his brother in the past few hours. 

Four tilted his head to the left where the stranger had previously been sitting, then turned to Five. 

"They're coming," he whispered to Five.

The bell above the door jingled merrily, though it brought with it the stench of death. Five peered into the bell on the counter and his heart skipped a beat at the reflection of the Commission's goons.

Each of them were pointing a gun at himself and Four. 

"That was fast," Five said, pushing down the protective feeling at his brother also being held at gunpoint, "I thought I'd have more time."

Four quietly giggled beside him. Five prayed he wouldn't mess everything up and get himself shot.

"Okay," one of the goons said, "let's all be professional about this, yeah? On your feet and come with us, I wanna talk."

Five chuckled and Four shifted in his seat.

"I've got nothing to say," Five told the goon.

"It doesn't have to go this way. You think I wanna shoot a kid? Go home with that on my conscience?"

"Aw, he does have a heart!" Four cooed.

There was the sound of the goon tightening his hand on the gun, and Five prepared to attack, but no bullets came. Still, he took that as his cue and slyly grabbed the butter knife from the counter. 

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that," he told the goon, "you won't be going home."

And then he attacked.

He jumped from his seat and reappeared behind the goon aiming at him, then stabbed him with he butter knife in the side of the neck.

Bullets sprayed everywhere, almost hitting Four, but the man simply levitated away. Five realised then that he must've slipped his shoes off at some point in the conversation. Perhaps even earlier than that, but he had no time to dwell on it because men were coming at him left and right. 

The next ten minutes were filled with the sound of guns, bullets flying passed him and missing him by mere inches, and Four aiding him in taking down the goons.

Four had a messier way of killing the goons than he (simply wielding a butter knife) had. He would use his telekinesis to throw the men back and forth across the room until their necks either broke or their ribs cracked and crushed their hearts.

Still, it was effective and he was actually helping Five so he paid his brother no mind as he choked out a goon with his Academy tie. 

When the goon had taken his last breath and began to slump, Five removed the tie and let the man fall to the ground with a thud.

"Woo! What a rush. I haven't used my powers in five years. Still got it though, huh?" Four gushed, levitating over to him.

"Five years?" Five questioned.

"Oh, yeah," Four laughed, "the old man only introduced metal shoes five years ago when I almost escaped."

"What happened after that?" Five asked.

It didn't make sense to him how Four could have been overpowered and thrown back into his cell by a man weaker than him. 

"You know, I'm not really sure. One minute I was escaping, the next, everything went black," Four shrugged.

He went back over to the counter and picked up his doughnut. He removed a shell from on top of it and bit into the pastry.

There was a struggling noise from to their left and before Five could get to the still breathing goon and snap his neck, the man went flying across the room and hit the wall with a resounding crack. Five nodded and began putting his tie back on.

"So, who were they?" Four asked with a mouthful of doughnut. Five resisted the urge to make a face of disgust.

"Commission goons," Five said.

"Oh? How did they find you? Didn't you say you time travelled? You could have been anywhere in time!"

"I have an idea," Five sat down at the counter again and picked up the butter knife.

After wiping it on his blazer to remove the blood, he pushed up the sleeve on his right arm and looked at the knife. 

He flipped it around and held the handle out to Four. 

"There's a tracker," Five told him, "in my arm, right here. I need you to take it out."

"Oh! Are we playing surgeons?" Four took the knife and went to impale his arm, but Five pulled it back just in time.

"I'm serious, Four. You need to remove this tracker from my arm or we're all dead. Can you do that?" Five pursed his lips and watched his brother carefully. Maybe it was a bad idea to give him the knife. Perhaps he should've just done it himself.

"Sure thing, Five-o," Four said, less energetically than a moment ago.

"Thank you," Five sighed and held his arm out.

He would never get over the feeling of Four rummaging around in his arm for the tiny green tracker. 


	3. Chapter 3

Rain pelted down hard, hitting the cement juat as loud as gunshots, yet Four couldn't hear it. His eyes were focused on the wet pile of ash in the centre of the courtyard. As far as he remembered, he and his siblings used to play in the courtyard when they weren't training. Now it was the resting place of the villain who had thrown a fist at his happy life and torn it all down.

Four clenched his jaw and stomped over to the ashes, then threw himself to his knees. He reached a shaking hand out and grabbed a handful of the wet ashes. They were gritty and stained his hand grey when he squeezed them tight in his closed fist.

"Oh, they said you were dead," he murmured to the ashes with amusement, "but there's nothing like seeing it for yourself. Huh, Ben?"

He turned to his left and looked up. Standing beside him was his brother's ghost. His hood was pulled up, a clear sign he was brooding, and his hands were in his leather jacket pockets.

Ben shrugged silently. 

Four turned back to the ashes and tilted his head slightly.

"Benny thought you were a real asshole, you know," he told the ashes, "but I think you were just scared. Scared of what you couldn't control. Ha. But look at me now, daddy dearest; you're dead and gone, and I'm free to do whatever the hell I want. You can't stop me now."

Clenching his fist even further, he smiled as the wet ashes slipped past his fingers and splattered on the floor. He shook his hand then wiped it on his shirt, leaving behind a grey smudge. 

"How do you feel about waffles, Ben? You like waffles, right? And mom makes the best, doesn't she?" 

Ben nodded, so Four stood up and headed back into the house in search of their mother to get them both some waffles. He loved her waffles. She always put fruit on them and arranged it all to make a smiley face. It made Four's heart swell, even of he did rearrange the blueberries into a frown sometimes.

When he made it inside and shook his head to rid his curls of water, he trudged through the house, barefeet leaving footprints on the ground. A minute later, he stepped into the kitchen and saw mom already at the stove. She was moving with elegance and smiling brightly, as if nothing could phase her.

"Hey, mom," he spoke up.

Her smile turned to a frown and she whirled to look at him. 

"Four, dear, what are you doing here?" She inquired curiously as her smile returned and she clasped her hands in front of her.

"Oh, you know," Four shrugged and levitated over to sit on the table. He didn't miss the way she glanced at his barefeet. "I just fancied a walk around. Stretch my legs, you know. Get out for a bit."

"Of course," Grace chuckled, "it's not good for a someone to spend so much time in side. Especially for a growing boy."

She stepped forward and pinched his cheek for a second. Four pursed his lips then rubbed his cheek when Grace went back to cooking breakfast. Who for, Four didn't know. Still, he wanted waffles and now was as perfect a time as any to ask.

"Can Ben and I have some waffles, please?" He requested. "We are growing boys, after all."

"Of course, dear, I'll get on them right away," Grace told him.

And true to her word, she immediately began taking out the ingredients for waffles. Four grinned and hopped off the table. He could find something else to do whilst she made waffles.

As he started towards the door, he paused and span around to face Grace again. 

"Oh, and let's not tell Pogo about this, huh?" He said. Grace looked up and towards him, confusion clear on her face. "Wouldn't want to worry him with such trivial matters as me going for a walk. Okay?"

"Oh, yes, of course, dear," Grace nodded sympathetically. Pogo was getting old in age by now and even she must know that he wouldn't take well to Four being 'out and about', so to speak.

"I'll be back in a minute for those waffles," he informed her, waving a hand as he finally left the room, Ben following silently behind. 

"Okay, dear," she called out then started humming a merry tune.

When he was in the hallway, he lifted himself into the air to float on his back instead of walking. It was such a bore and who needed it anyway when you could levitate? Certainly not him.

He smoothly rounded a corner and came to the foyer. There was no one around and he briefly wondered where they were. No one had told him they were going out. In fact, no one but Five had spoken to him since they found him. Well, Diego and Vanya had said a few words, but that was hours ago. Since then, none of his 'siblings' had actually made an effort to get to know him again. To welcome him back or comfort him after all he'd been through the past twenty years.

Shows how much they care, he thought bitterly. 

Huffing, he landed softly on his feet at the top of the stairs and scrunched his toes up to feel the soft carpet. He hadn't felt it in years. He was more accustomed to the feel of metal shoes. He shuffled along the hallway, watching his feet the entire time.

It was only when he came to where his and the others' bedrooms were that he stopped. He heard a noise so he looked up with curiosity, only to see Five with a large backpack on his back, climbing through the window onto the fire escape.

"Five-o, buddy? What're you doing there?" He lifted himself into the air and floated over to his brother on his stomach. He stopped when he reached him and put his chin in the palms of his hands.

Five sighed and paused to look at him.

"I'm going out. I thought this way would involve less talking. I was wrong."

"Out? Where are you going? And what's with the bag? It's huge. What've you got in there? A body? Can I see? Oh, wait, is it candy? Do you have, like, giant gummy bears in there? Can I have one, please? We all know I'm your favourite," Four blinked his eyes at Five, trying to persuade him to divulge whatever was in the giant bag.

His brother merely scowled at him.

"I don't have giant gummy bears in my bag. Nor a body," he shook his head and finally stepped out onto the fire escape.

Four floated out after him then landed on the cold metal. How comforting.

"Then what is it?" Four questioned as Five started climbing down the ladder.

"None of your business, Four," Five told him then dropped to the ground.

"Okay, then where are you going? Can I come with you?"

"No, go back inside and stay out of trouble," Five ordered as he adjusted the straps of his bag and made his way towards a van.

"Is this your van? Are you sure I can't come with you? I thought you wanted my help with this whole apocalypse thingy?"

"Apocalypse thingy?" Five whirled to face him. "The _apocalypse_ is a world-ending event and that's how you're referring to it?"

"Well, _sorry,_ Five-o," Four crossed his arms, "I'm not the one who spent forty years trapped in it. It doesn't matter as much to me. Besides, maybe I want the world to end? It hasn't done me any favours."

"Look, Four," Five dumped his backpack on the ground and took a step closer. Despite the height difference, he still managed to look intimidating. "I didn't let you out of your cage so you could continue to mock and berate me about the apocalypse. I broke a contract and risked _death_ in order to come home and save your stupid ass and the rest of the world. Now either you help me stop the apocalypse and stop taking this as a _joke_ , or I put you right back where I found you. Do you understand?"

Four leaned a little closer, arms stilled crossed and a grin on his face.

"... I'd like to see you try, pipsqueak."

"Get in the van," Five grit out, face contorted in anger, tepping away. He picked up his backpack and jumped to the driver's seat of the van.

By the time the engine was up and running, Four was only just getting into the passenger seat. Five only cast him a brief glance as he let go of the parking brake and pulled out of the alleyway.

The drove in silence for a while, everything around them just a blur, before Four groaned and turned to Five.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"What?" Five asked.

"I said, I'm sorry. For what I said. For not taking the apocalypse seriously." 

Five eyed him for a second then turned back to the road.

"It doesn't matter," he sighed, "but you were right. I do need your help. Right now, I need you to pretend to be my father."

"We're role playing?" Four squealed excitedly, sitting up in his seat.

"What? No. I just need you to pretend to be my father so I can gather information on that eye I told you about. It's my only lead on what causes the apocalypse and I need to know who it belongs to," Five explained.

"And then we kill them?"

"If it comes to that, yes."

Four laughed, low and excited, far cry to his usual manic giggling.

"Oh, I love your determination, Five-o," he nodded in approval.

"Thanks," Five pursed his lips, and swerved around a corner like the cops were on their tail. Which, if he continued the way he was driving, might be the case very soon. Not that Four cared- he could use a little entertainment

Soon enough, after a journey filled with a lot of talking on Four's behalf and probably not enough on Fives's, the duo pulled up outside a large building. Four took the time whilst Five was parking the car to admire how big it was. He'd never actually been outside before (if you didn't include Griddy's with Five).

Having been locked up at nine years old and never actually having the opportunity to leave the mansion like his siblings when they rose to fame at thirteen years old, everything outside was kind of new to him. Of course, Ben had told him bits and pieces, all of the important stuff to know in preparation for his inevitable escape, at his request.

So, he knew about all of the city's nearest hospitals and any areas nearby that he should avoid due to graveyards and cemeteries, all of that stuff. But he didn't know about the smaller, more interesting stuff. Like, where the nearest candy store was. Or, where he could find a bar. He'd never drank before, but apparently Ben had once when the Horrors had been getting rowdy and he'd felt helpless. Ben didn't remember much from that night, according to him, and Four thought that sounded like a pleasant experience.

"There should be a suit somewhere in the back, put it on," Five interrupted his train of thought.

"What?" Four asked.

"The suit. Put it on."

"Why can't I wear what I've got on?"

"You're pretending to be my dad. Not some ten dollar hooker."

"Okay, wow, rude," Four giggled in surprise. He knew how he looked, but there was no need to say it like that. "Ugh, fine! But no peaking, okay? I know I'm a catch, but we're brothers. I'm not into that. Got it?"

"Just put the damn suit on!"

An empty water bottle was thrown at him and Four squealed as he shielded his head from the projectile. He scrambled over the seats and into the back part of the van to find the suit.

Half an hour later and the 'father and son' were in Mr Big's office, as Four had taken to calling him in his mind as he couldn't remember the man's name to save his life. It was probably Hubert or something like that.

Four sat rigidly in the chair opposite Mr Big, trying his hardest to channel his inner Reginald. He had no idea how to act like a father and Reggie was his only inspiration. Unfortunately, he didn't have a cane and the suit was kind of big over his thin body, but he thought he must be doing a good job because Mr Big kept nervously glancing over to him.

"Like I said to your son earlier," Mr Big addressed him, "any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential."

Four rolled his eyes, feeling like he was listening to a broken record. Mr Big and Five kept going back and forth, making the same points over and over again. It was mind numbing, and that was coming from someone who'd been locked up and had to hear his father repeat the same things to him for twenty years.

"Without the client's consent, I simply can't help you."

"I can't _get_ the client's consent if you don't give us a name," Five grit out.

Four looked around the office, boredom making its appearance. The office was dull and lacked any kind of privacy with its glass walls and doors. A fake plant stood in the corner, its plastic leaves reaching for sunlight it couldn't photosynthesise. The desk lamp was turned on, despite it being midday.

On the desk, something that caught his eye because of how ironic it was, sat a snowglobe. There was a little Earth inside the sphere, submerged in water and glitter. An inscription on the bottom read "Peace On Earth".

The irony came from the inscription. In Four's experience and humble opinion, there was no peace on Earth, and there probably never would be.

"Sorry. Now, there's not-" Mr Big spoke.

A sneer appeared on Four's face as he interrupted the man.

"What about my consent?" Four suddenly demanded of Mr Big. He put a palm flat on his chest, the too big sleeves of his suit falling down.

"I'm sorry?" Mr Big questioned, expression one of surprise.

"Who gave _you_ permission..." here, he pointed at Five, who merely looked confused, "to lay your hands on my son?"

"I didn't tou-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Four was out of his seat and the palm of his hand was flying towards Five's face. A resounding _slap_ echoed throughout the office, and Five turned away to nurse his cheek. Mr Big looked horrified.

"I want it," Four leant towards Mr Big, palms flat on the desk, "name, please. Now."

"You're crazy," Mr Big pointed at Four, voice wavering.

Four giggled, entirely amused.

"You got no idea, Mr Big," he murmured, grin disappearing just as quick as it had graced his face.

He looked down at the snowglobe on the desk as Mr Big's eyes widened at his admission.

"Peace on Earth," he read aloud, picking up the snowglobe, "That's so sweet."

Before Mr Big could open his mouth again, Four gripped the snowglobe with both his hands and quickly brought it towards his own forehead. The globe shattered and his face was immediately covered with water, glitter, and blood. He let go of the globe's base, the item falling to the floor with a clatter.

Four giggled as the remaining water dripped from his hair and through the gaps between his fingers. He wiped his forehead, and rose an eyebrow at the amount of blood. It was more than he expected.

Mr Big reached forward and pickes up the telephone with wide eyes. He began inputting a number, but Four tore the receiver from his hand.

"What are you doing?" Mr Big demanded.

But Four ignored him in favour of crying dramatically into the receiver, "there's been an assault! In Mr Big's office, and we nees security, now. Schnell!"

He threw the receiver down onto the desk and sighed. 

"Now, here's what's going to happen, Mr Big. In about sixty seconds, two security guards are going to burst through that door and they're going to see a lot of blood. And they're going wonder what the hell happened! And we're going to tell them that _you_ beat the shit outta us."

Mr Big lookes terrified, perhaps at the prospect of losing his job for an assault he hadn't committed, or simply because of Four. Either way, it seemed Four's scarcely thought out plan had worked. Beside him, Five smirked at Mr Big.

"You're gonna do great in prison, Big guy," Four told him, "I've heard some great things. Trust me. Oh, you're gonna get passed around like... Well, you're gonna do great."

Four giggled. Oh, the things the ghosts had told him about their time in prison. He could write a book. 

"Jesus, you are a real sick bastard," Mr Big shook his head, pale.

"Thank you," Four smiled.

In the end, though, Four's abuse of both himself and his brother was all for nought. His act had convinced Mr Big to show them the records, but apparently the eye Five was carrying around hadn't even been manufactured yet, more proof of his apparent time travel. Not that Four hadn't believed him in the first place. He, along with all of his siblings had some weird-ass powers; why couldn't time travel be possible?

Sitting on the steps outside of the prosthetics building with a frustrated Five beside him, though, he suddenly realised something.

"Mom was making me waffles."

**Author's Note:**

> Some things to note:  
> \- I considered giving Klaus his name, but decided against it because Reginald wouldn't have let him have a name after what he did.  
> \- He's been in near solitary confinement since he was nine (without even the ghosts), which is why he's a bit... loopy.  
> \- He was only allowed out of confinement every so often for a shower if Reginald allowed it, and if he did, he kept his shoes on and was supervised by Grace to make sure he kept them on.  
> \- Five is letting him out because he knows how much control over his power Four has and he thinks Four will be helpful in stopping the apocalypse and fighting any commission grunts.  
> \- four can't be trusted because he holds a grudge against his siblings for not letting him out earlier, though he will help stop the apocalypse because it means he gets to leave confinement.  
> \- ben has been there since he died, but not as often as canon because the room blocke four's powers, which is why four knew five and the others were coming (ben told him)  
> \- even tho the room blocks his powers, Reginald wasn't taking any chances hence the shoes and his hands being tied.


End file.
